Episode 169 – The Enchanted Princess – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 169 Show Notes

Source: Russian/Slavic Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’re off to Eastern Europe for a Slavic mix of several traditional tales. You’ll discover that military pensions suck, that breaking and entering is a good idea, and that you should drink wine with demons. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a monster hunted by the Witcher will sneak into your bedroom to drain your blood and infest your nightmares. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 169, “The Enchanted Princess”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
This week, we’re headed to the vast expanse of the Russian wilderness for a tale from Slavic folklore. This tale comes from Myths and Folk-Tales of the Russians, Western Slavs, and Magyars collected by Jeremiah Curtin in 1903. Once upon a time, there lived a soldier. He served faithfully and honorably in the mounted guard of the king of a nameless kingdom for 25 years. In honor of his long tenure, the king discharged this soldier honorably and granted him the same horse he had ridden on in the cavalry regiment. That could theoretically be the same horse he’s ridden the whole time, but it’s a very old horse if so. I’m not sure it’s the best retirement gift. I mean, horses were and are very expensive, but if his horse is over 25 years old, then it’s basically retiring too so it’s probably cheaper to give away than to keep. PLus, horses require a lot of upkeep.
Anywho, the soldier bid farewell to his former comrades in arms and set out for his childhood home. He hadn’t been there for many years, unable to make the long journey back thanks to his military service. For a solid three weeks, he and his horse walked along the road away from the kingdom and towards home. Being a soldier didn’t pay extraordinarily well and so the man had no savings (plus he very likely drank and gambled whatever he did earn away). Since his only retirement bonus had been an old horse, he had no supplies and no money to purchase any. Both he and the horse had to make do with whatever they could scrounge along the road (which likely went better for the horse than the soldier since the former could graze on grass). There wasn’t much to be found along the road, be it fruit or game, and so the man was extremely hungry and getting desperate.
Looking around for any better option than simply continuing to walk, the soldier spied a castle on the horizon. It wasn’t terribly far from the road, so he headed that way hoping that they would take pity on a poor wandering soldier. They might even have need of a strong arm to do work around the place. It wasn’t quite the retirement he’d dreamed of, but he was very quickly realizing that he needed to earn a living. At least serving in a castle would be less dangerous than charging the enemy lines. He rode into the courtyard and stabled his horse, giving him some hay to munch on. The horse was content, so now the soldier could look after his own needs.
He headed inside the castle to find it quite empty except for an enormous wooden table set with a sumptuous feast, complete with rich wine. He called out for anyone who might be home, but there was no answer. Shrugging, he sat down and tucked in. The food was getting cold and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. He ate until he was quite stuffed and a little wine drunk. Still no one had come to interrupt his feast for one. “Well, the food was amazing and the wine was the best I’ve ever had. That combo is making me sleepy, and it is getting late, so maybe I should just spend the night.”
Just as he had decided to find a bed to crash in, a fucking bear entered the room. Plot twist. In what was both a huge surprise and not at all a surprise, the bear spoke. “Do not be afraid, brave hero. You have come at last. As you might have guessed by the fact that I can talk, I’m not actually a bear but an enchanted princess.” Which sounds like something a bear would say, but whatever. “If you can spend three nights in this castle, my curse will be broken. I will be a princess once more and I vow to marry the man who accomplishes the feat and frees me.” This sounds a lot like Episode 167 (and Beauty and the Beast from Episodes 39A to I), but I promise we’re going in a different direction.
This seemed like a fucking incredible deal to the broke, wandering, homeless soldier and so he agreed to these terms without hesitation. As soon as he did so though, a crushing despair settled over him that he was now trapped inside these walls, unable to wander freely through the world. This awful depression grew heavier with each passing moment. If the wine hadn’t been so rich and so potent, it’s doubtful that the soldier could have endured for one night, let alone three. He collapsed into bed and fell asleep in a drunken stupor, his dreams strange and unsettling. The next day got worse until, that evening, he decided fuck it. No princess was worth feeling this terribly, so he resolved to throw it all away and flee. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to find any way out of the castle, and he was forced to stay put in spite of himself. That seems like cheating to me, but I guess it technically counts.
With an assload of wine, the soldier drank his way through the third and final night. In most stories, these three days would be what the story was about, but not this one. I told you we were going a different direction. In the morning, the bear (who I guess has been just kind of around during all of this) was gone, replaced by the most beautiful woman the soldier had ever seen. She gushed over his heroic service in breaking her terrible curse (despite the fact that he totally broke and would have fled if he could have managed it) and reaffirmed her vow of marriage. In no time at all, the castle had been made resplendent for the couple’s nuptials (whether by magic or heretofore unseen servants is unclear) and they were married. They began living together in the castle, quite happy now that the magical depression had lifted with the curse. I wish my depression could vanish that easily but hey – that’s what antidepressants are for.
The honeymoon was wonderful but, in time, the soldier began to long to see his home once more. This castle had always been meant to be a stopover on the way back to the land of his childhood, and now he actually had supplies to make the journey. His new wife, the princess, begged him not to go. “Please my husband, stay here with me. What could you possibly need that you can’t find here? We want for nothing and live in extravagant comfort. Won’t you stay?” Alas, no amount of pleading could dissuade the former soldier (who I suppose is a prince now). “I’ll return to you my wife, I promise, but I haven’t seen my homeland in decades. I just want to visit long enough to cure my homesickness and then I’ll come back to you. Once I’ve been home for a time, I can live here with you for the rest of our lives in contentment.” Realizing it was futile, she bid her husband a tearful farewell and gave him a sack of seeds.
“On whatever road leads you away from here, cast these seeds to both sides. Wherever they fall, trees will spring magically up. On these will grow precious fruit, sweet and luscious. The boughs will be laden with beautiful birds filling the air with their trilling songs next to tom-cats from beyond the seas telling fantastical tales.” I have no idea what any of that is supposed to be good for (except for the fruit, which at least makes good eating) but the soldier prince didn’t ask. He simply thanked his wife for her thoughtful gift and headed out for home. He rode for three days, casting seeds on either side of him as he went. As promised, a forest sprang up along his path, erupting from the damp earth with all the flora and fauna that had been foretold. On the third, the man came upon a merchant caravan pulled up in a meadow to rest. The wagons had been circled up and the merchants were chatting, laughing, and playing cards. An enormous pot was hanging over a circle of rocks in the center, bubbling and boiling away like a fountain. Strangely though, there was clearly no fire burning beneath it. Some magic was obviously at play here. Intrigued, the soldier approached, wanting a closer look at this strange cauldron.
He waved in greeting as he neared. “Hail, honorable gentlemen. Mind if I join you for a bit?” They nodded, their eyes clearly looking the stranger up and down but the soldier turned prince was used to odd looks from a life of soldiering and took no notice. “A cauldron boiling without a fire is one hell of a trick, but I think I can do you one better.” With a huge smile, he pulled out a seed and tossed it on the ground. In moments, a tree had erupted from the earth and sprouted plump fruit complete with birds and cats. The merchants watched for a moment in stunned silence before whispering amongst themselves in what was definitely not a suspicious manner. “That’s him! That’s the asshole who freed the princess. Come, brothers, and let us drug him with a foul weed that will make him sleep for half a year!” It’s a weirdly specific threat from a group of what are clearly not actually merchants. The story just calls them ‘unclean’, which I gather means some kind of devil or cruel spirit.
The soldier suspected nothing despite all the strange whispering and cunning looks. He was all too happy to have company, and was easily taken in by their attempts to entertain. He didn’t notice when they drugged his wine with their magic weed and drank deep. Sure enough, he soon passed out on the grass, snoring faintly. The fake-merchants, their boiling kettle, and their wagons all vanished into thin air and were gone, leaving the slumbering prince all alone.
The next day, the princess, back in her castle, went out into her garden to pass the day. She gasped as she saw that the tops of the trees had begun to wither and wilt. As is often the case in these kinds of stories, the foliage is magically linked to the man sowing them. Their ill-health is a sign to the princess that her new husband is in trouble. “Some evil has come to my husband.” Despite this knowledge, the woman stayed where she was and did absolutely nothing about it for three months. I assume that she had promised to give her husband those months to go home and visit without interruption. At the end of those three months, which was when her husband had promised to return, there was no sign of him, which was unfortunately not a surprise.
She hadn’t gone after him yet, but that didn’t mean the princess had sat idle all these months. She was prepared for the journey she’d been sure she’d need to undertake and so she was ready to leave that very day. Thanks to her foresight, it was easy for her to know which way her husband had gone – she just had to follow the line of trees with magical fruit, birds, and cats. She traveled for three days until the trees petered out along the road. “Where did my husband go? I doubt that he just suddenly stopped doing as he promised for no reason, but I don’t see him here. It’s not like he just sank into the earth.” She looked around for any sign of the missing soldier. There was only one single tree to be spotted, this one off to the side in a grassy meadow all by itself. She headed over that way and sure enough, she saw him asleep in the grass beneath it.
With a cry of relief, the princess rushed over to her no-longer-missing husband and shook him awake. Or rather, she tried. No matter how she shook, prodded, or pricked him, he showed no sign of rousing. He lay like a corpse, completely unaware of everything. Sick with worry and angry with her husband for not coming back like he’d promised and now ignoring her, she yelled at the motionless man. It was irrational, sure, but the combination of fear and relief was a potent cocktail. “You good for nothing, lazy sack of shit! May your lazy ass be caught up in a stormy whirlwind and carried away to unknown lands!” It’s an oddly specific curse. Worse, the princess accidentally tapped into her magical power, her words carrying the force of a spell.
Before the echo of her voice had died away, a cold wind began to whistle through the trees. Before the horrified princess’ eyes, a tornado descended from the clouds and bore the prince away into the sky, still fast asleep. Too late she realized the power she had unwittingly invoked and now had no idea how to undo. Weeping bitter tears, she returned to her castle to live alone knowing that her own anger was the source of her misfortune. She had no idea where her beloved husband had been taken, but the words of her accidental curse had ensured that it would be far, far away.
As for the poor unconscious soldier, he was whisked far away on the whirlwind, away to the thirtieth kingdom. He came to rest on a narrow point between two seas, a tiny wedge of land. If he were to turn over in his sleep to either side, he would have tumbled into the waves and been lost. Luckily, his magical cursed sleep kept him entirely motionless. Unfortunately, he slumbered on that tiny spit of land for another three months. Back on the fortunately side, when he eventually did wake up, he managed to spring directly to his feet without tumbling off the edge. Peering around, he saw rolling waves as far as the eye could see – he seemed to be on the coast of a small island. “Okay, what the actual fuck? Where am I, how did I get here, and who dropped me off in the literal middle of fucking nowhere?”
With no other option, the soldier turned around and headed to the island’s interior. It was dominated by a towering mountain, its peak lost in the clouds far above. He could just make out a great gray stone there – it’s an odd thing to notice, but it will surely be important later. What is important now were the three devils fighting at the mountain’s base. Blood was flowing from all three of the combatants, flesh being ripped from their bodies and tossed into the air in a frenzy. “Stop it, all of you! What the hell are you fighting about?” The three devils paused in mid-strike like something out of a cartoon to gape at this newcomer. “Our father died three days ago and left behind three wondrous items: a flying carpet, boots of swiftness, and a cap of invisibility. We’re fighting because we cannot figure out how to divide them.”
“Are you three really such cruel, selfish assholes to fight your literal brothers over such trifles? Look, if you want I can divide the inheritance up between you. That way, there’s no hard feelings and everyone can walk away happy.” The devils looked at each other, dropped their fists, and stepped back. “Very well then, human. Divide these between us if you wish.” “Alright, now we’re talking. Each of you head into that pine forest and gather up 100 poods (an archaic measurement equal to about 400 lbs) of pitch and bring it back.” The devils promptly raced off and soon came back with the requested 300 poods of pitch.
“Great, very well done. Now go back to your own kingdom and bring back the very largest kettle it has.” They vanished again and soon returned with a truly enormous one, large enough to hold 40 barrels. Into this, the soldier placed the pitch and then built a fire beneath it. When the pitch was boiling, he ordered the devils to take the cauldron and pour it out on the mountain from top to bottom. “Great, great. Now look up at the peak. See that rock up there? Push the stone and let it roll down the mountain. Once it’s moving, chase it down and catch it. The first one of you to do so will get first pick of the items; the second, the second; and the third, the third.”
The devils again raced off to obey. The stone was rolled down the mountain and quickly picked up speed. One of the devils caught up quickly and rushed ahead to try and catch the boulder. Instead, the enormous weight crushed him beneath it into the boiling pitch. Learning nothing from this, the second and third devils also caught up and tried to catch the boulder only to be crushed into the pitch. Laughing, the soldier picked up the boots of swiftness and cap of invisibility, climbed onto the flying carpet, and sailed away. He now had a way to try and get home. He had no real idea of where that was, but he hoped it would be easier to spot from the sky.
He came in time to a lonely hut in the middle of the forest. It wasn’t much but it was the first sign of human habitation he had seen, so he descended to ask for directions. Inside he found an old, toothless, bone-legged woman that he immediately recognized: it was the great and terrible witch the Baba Yaga. We haven’t seen her since Episode 134, but she’s still her usual strange, mischievous, occasionally helpful, cannibal self. “Greetings, grandmother! I am looking for the fair princess I married, but I am lost and far from home.” The witch considered the soldier, but he had been polite and direct, which she respected. “I have not seen her within my sight, nor have I heard her within my hearing. If you travel the way you were going over many more lands and seas, you’ll come to my sister. She knows more than I do, so maybe she can help you find your lost princess.”
I’ve mentioned before that sometimes the Baba Yaga is an individual and sometimes she is more of a title, a collection of powerful witches. Thanking the Baba Yaga, the soldier prince climbed back onto his carpet and sailed away in search of the witch’s sister. He wandered long and long over the vast, snowy expanse without encountering the second witch. Whenever he was hungry, he would put on the cap of invisibility, land the carpet, and sneak into a shop. He would then shoplift whatever he needed (having no money to pay for anything and no time to earn it) and fly away.
After many weary weeks of travel, he finally spied another isolated hut and descended. Inside sat another old, toothless, bone-legged woman who could easily have been the clone of the first. This is probably her sister, but it’s also possible that this is actually the same woman playing some strange private game. “Greetings, grandmother! I am looking for the fair princess I married, but I am lost and far from home.” She shook her head. “Alas my dove, I do not know.” While it certainly wasn’t the Baba Yaga’s fault that she didn’t know this one random princess, the soldier had built up his hopes around the vague promise of the first witch. “Fuck you, you old hag! How many years have you wasted on this planet and you can’t even answer a single simple question? You have as many thoughts as you do teeth. You’re worthless!”
Stalking out of the hut in a huff, the soldier mounted his carpet and sailed away. Despite the second witch having said nothing about it, he was certain that there was a third Baba Yaga, the eldest and wisest. I’m guessing he just knows the old stories. Long and long did he wander, flying through the skies to the very edge of the world. The only road in sight dead ended at a third hut. There was nothing beyond it but the impenetrable outer darkness with nothing to be seen inside it. “Well, this is my final chance. If the old witch here doesn’t know how to get home, then there’s no hope. There’s literally nowhere else to fly to.” I mean there realistically must be, but he did come here on a magical whirlwind, so perhaps he’s not in Kansas anymore.
Heading nervously inside, the soldier saw the expected old, toothless, bone-legged witch waiting for him. “Greetings, grandmother! I am looking for the fair princess I married, but I am lost and far from home.” This eldest witch smiled. “Wait just a moment, stranger. I will call the winds to me and ask them. They blow all over the world, so they see much that occurs. If anyone knows where this princess lives, it is they.” The old woman went out onto the hut’s porch, cried out to the winds in an oddly loud voice, and then whistled, an eerie, piercing sound. At once, the storm winds rose up and whipped around the hut from every side.
“Quiet, winds! Quiet! Now gather round, all orderly like.” The winds hastened to obey the powerful witch. “Listen up, my stormy gales that blow across the wide world. Have you seen a beautiful princess anywhere in your travels?” That seems like a very non-specific question; there must be plenty of princesses that could fit that unbelievably vague description. But, as it turned out, there were in fact none. “We have not seen her anywhere,” answered the winds. “That’s very strange,” mused the witch. “Are all my storm winds here?” They consulted amongst themselves in a moaning wail. “All are here, save only the South Wind.”
The witch whistled again, and soon the South Wind dawdled up, meandering this way and that. “What took you so long? We’ve all been here waiting for you.” “Pardon, grandmother! I was visiting a new kingdom where a beautiful princess is living. Her husband vanished without a trace three months ago and hasn’t been seen since. Now, various Tsars’ sons, kings, and princesses are paying court to her and trying to win her hand.” “That’s very interesting, South Wind. And how far is this new kingdom?” The wind considered this. “For a man on foot, it would take 35 years to get there. For someone with wings, a mere ten years. For me though? I could carry someone there in only three hours.”
The prince’s heart soared at this news, hope blooming once more. He begged the South Wind to carry him back to his beloved wife, tears in his eyes. The South Wind, the kindest and gentlest of them all, agreed to help. “I’ll carry you there, but in return I want you to let me run around in your kingdom for three days and nights as wild and free as I want. Deal?” “You can frolic through my kingdom for three weeks if you like! Done and done.” “The deal is the deal. I need to rest for a few days to collect my strength. It takes a lot of effort for a wind to carry a man across the skies.”
The soldier spent three anxious days waiting for the South Wind to ready itself. It was painful to not pressure the wind for more speed, but he was too close to getting home to ruin it now. At long last, it was time. “Are you ready brother? Then let’s be off! Look out, have no fear, and stay calm, and you’ll get there safely.” At the soldier’s anxious nod, a mighty whirlwind whistled itself into existence, roaring and raging as it lifted the man off his feet and into the sky. The South Wind bore the prince through the clouds, over the lands and seas and across a myriad of kingdoms. As promised, in almost exactly three hours, he recognized the kingdom he had so briefly called home.
Gently, the wind lowered him to the earth once more. “Farewell, friend and hero. I’ve decided that I like you, so I’m not going to hold you to your promise. I’m not going to frolic through your kingdom after all.” “Why is that, kind wind?” “Because if I let myself really get wild, there will not be a single house left standing in a single town, nor even one tree still growing tall in the gardens. I would tear everything up from the root and leave no stone standing upon another. I simply couldn’t do that to someone I like.” The man swallowed in realization at the near miss he hadn’t recognized. “That’s very gracious of you, friend wind. Thank you for everything and farewell!”
Turning towards his kingdom, the soldier placed the cap of invisibility on his head and headed for the white-walled castle. As he walked, he saw that all of the trees had withered and wilted in his absence, but as he passed they each sprang to new vibrant life and began to bloom. Taking this as a good sign, he entered the castle unseen and unnoticed. Entering the great hall, he saw that the South Wind had spoken truly – it was filled with Tsars’ sons, kings, and princes courting the princess, who was as beautiful as ever. I mean, it’s only been six months. It’s not like he’s been away for 20 years like some Ithacan kings I could name. Like the suitors of Penelope, these young men seemed more interested in drinking and partying than actually wooing the supposed object of their affections. They were entertaining themselves and drinking the finest wines in the castle.
Now that the soldier was home though, it was time to be petty. Anytime someone lifted a glass to their lips, he slapped it from their hands to crash against the flagstones. The guests were surprised and deeply confused, which fair, but the princess somehow knew exactly what was going on. She too had seen the magical trees suddenly blooming to life once more, so she knew that her beloved husband had returned. Surely this strangeness was his doing, even if she didn’t know exactly how yet. Like her Greek predecessor, this clever princess decided to rig the competition with a challenge: not archery this time, but a riddle. “I had a homemade casket with a golden key. I lost this key and did not think to ever find it, but now the key has found itself. Whoever can guess the answer to this riddle, him will I marry.”
The Tsars’ sons, kings, and princes all wracked their brains for some answer to his confudling riddle, but none could come up with an answer. To be fair, this isn’t so much a riddle as it is a fuck you. Smiling, the princess said aloud to the empty air “Show yourself, sir.” The soldier removed his cap of invisibility, took his wife by the hand, and kissed her long and deep. “Here is the answer to my riddle,” said the princess once she came up for air. “I am the homemade casket and the key is my faithful husband, who has now returned to me.” The disappointed suitors were forced to return to their homes without a princess or her riches. The happy couple got back to living their lives, and they lived happily ever after.
It bothers me that they give the prince boots of speed and then never ever use them. Really breaks Chekov’s gun, but whatever. On the other hand, it’s an interesting combination of a couple of different story types, rolling together the magical wind of Episode 123, the Odyssey of Episode 72A to Y, and Beauty and the Beast as previously mentioned. And so, with the happy couple reunited once more, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is the kikimora.
If you’re a fan of the Witcher series, then this name is probably familiar to you. They are often seen as a counterpart to the domovoi, who we met way, way back in Episode 18A. Like that previous creature, the kikimora is a house spirit who can either be benevolent or cruel depending on the behavior of the owner of the home she lives in. Unlike the domovoi, who she sometimes lives in opposition to in the same home, the kikimora is usually evil. There are several regional variations: Zmora in the west, and Mora in the south, with the word mora, meaning nightly spirit or bad dream widely considered to be the root of the modern word nightmare.
In more recent times, two distinct kinds of kikimora have developed, a forest dweller and a swamp dweller. Both are often said to be born from the tragic death of an infant or young child (especially one cursed by their parents), a young woman who died before marriage, in childbirth, or by suicide, an old woman, especially a powerful matriarch who refused to leave home after death, or a woman being seduced by a demonic entity such as an incubus. Stillbirths and miscarriages are said to be the work of the kikimora. It is possible for a boy to become a kikimora if he died young, but since the spirit is female, so are the dead who usually give birth to her. Changelings, a demon child replacing a couple’s actual child at a very young age, could also be exchanged by these creatures, leaving the unsuspecting parents to raise a kikimora. There’s a strong link between such changelings and neurodivergent children, especially autistic kids. I won’t get too deep into this (there are entire scholarly articles devoted to it), but suffice it to say that autistics like myself have been around as long as humanity, even though it wasn’t ever really understood.
The former is often said to be married to the domovoi and live in the same home. She is usually depicted as having the snout of a dog, the beak of a chicken, or the face of a goat with horns and glowing eyes, but she can theoretically take any part of an animal’s face or body because she is a shapeshifter (as many nightmare spirits are). When feeling particularly aggrieved or mischievous, she may even appear in the form of a dead loved one, returned to haunt the living, though she can take any feminine form, young or old, beautiful or hideous. Often, she would take the form that her victim was the most terrified of, though often as a dark shadow version. The swamp kikimora more usually takes the form of an ugly, hunchbacked woman with wild, unkempt hair dressed in moss and grass. This version is said to frighten people traveling through her domain, even knocking travelers off the road to drown them in the swamp for their trespass. And, of course, she kidnaps children because what evil swamp monster doesn’t? This version is often said to be married to the leshy, a slavic forest god.
Kikimoras are usually believed to enter the home through its keyhole, where they will creep into the bedroom and sit on the chest of sleepers, trying to strangle them or draw away their blood and strength. The sleeper would be plagued with terrible nightmares during this process. That’s right – we have another sleep paralysis demon. To repel this assault, children are told to look at the window when they sleep or to turn their pillow and make the sign of the cross on it. You can also prevent her from entering entirely by leaving the key in the keyhole or otherwise blocking it as a means of ingress. Other traditional wards included leaving a broom upside down beside the door, placing a crossed broom and axe at the threshold, putting the belt from your wedding on top of your sheets, sleeping with a scythe, or saying an elaborate prayer of protection before bed. If someone were in the midst of an attack, approaching them with an empty bottle could let you capture and kill the spirit. You had to sweep it over the victim without alerting the kikimore then stopper up the bottle and toss it in the fire to burn. You could also avoid it entirely by placing a fake straw person in your bed and sleeping elsewhere. Of course, the easiest option was to just sleep on your stomach, making it impossible for the creature to sit on your chest.
If the house that the kikimora enters happens to be extremely neat and tidy however, she may be pleased enough to instead be generous and helpful. In that lucky case, she will help with doing the dishes and other chores such as feeding the livestock. If the place is kept tidy for long enough, the kikimora will see no reason to remain and will leave for another house without having caused any suffering or mischief at all. She would leave at night, often searching for wandering children, who are her favorite prey (because of course they are). She is especially drawn to those being noisy after dark, which is why mothers would warn their children to not be rowdy at night and to never look these strange beings in the eyes. There are definitely some other benefits to parents for having quiet kids staying indoors at night that may have influenced some parts of the story. Likewise the part about keeping an exceptionally tidy house to ward off the cruel spirit would encourage housewives to toil away in order to keep their children safe from the attentions of the kikimora.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Instagram as MythsYourTeacherHatedPod, on Tumblr as MythsYourTeacherHated, and on Bluesky as MythsPodcast. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
In case you didn’t catch the livestream, I recently guested on a two-shot of the TTRPG Rapscallion for the fantastic actual-play podcast A Tale of D20s. Our haunted pirate adventure raised money for the wonderful Trevor Project, so if you missed it, you can look for it on YouTube (links have been posted on the socials). Check it out. I had an absolutely fabulous time as a charming swashbuckler.
Next time, we’ll head to the Southern US and the Caribbean to meet a trickster figure inspired by Anansi – Br’er Rabbit. You’ll learn that heroes are not always nice, that you should never trust a liar, and that Br’er Rabbit keeps some strange friends. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a man will decide to take a job opening in the Devil’s house, even though the last two people in that position were murdered. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.